City of Boners
by AllNightmareLong666
Summary: MALEC AU- When he first meets Magnus Bane, Alec is a Porn Star. Because of his job, he is forced to distance himself from the one person he is attracted to. Little did does he know, Magnus is faced with exactly the same conundrum... And then they are forced to do a scene together. Can their relationship survive the truth?
1. City of Not Me

**WARNING: **sex (duh). Although this is about porn stars, this is quite a serious fic, but it will have lots of fluff!

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><p>I was chained to a bed. There was a spotlight on me in my completely naked darkness all around concealed the camera crew. About fifteen people in the room, all staring at me and my 'partener'.<p>

The guy was sitting on my chest- his name was Sam, or something like that- wearing a man-thong that was hoisted from his erection and over his shoulders. He was hot, and that's where the niceties stopped in my opinion. His dick was larger than his brain and what brain he had left was basically made up of nastiness. That guy had a real mean streak, jeering and making fun of other guy's bodies, that kind of stuff. And he was about to put his dick in my mouth.

He pulled his erection free of the thong and moved his hips further towards me so the red, rock-hard erection was smearing pre-cum over my lips. I had no choice but to open my mouth and suck in the head. "You like that, little slut?" he asked in his bedroom voice. "Of course you do, greedy cock-sucker."

He pulled out of my mouth. "More, give me more," I said needily, even though I was struggling to keep my boner up.

"Oh you will get more," he guaranteed as he moved his knees so they were either side of my head, his leaking cock right in front of my face. I couldn't move to either touch it or lean away, the cuffs on my wrists and ankles digging into me painfully. He ran his sticky hands through my long, black hair and brought my face up to his dick. I opened my mouth and he entered me, the tangy taste of pre-cum spilling over my tongue. As the head touched the back of my throat, he pushed my head back down and shifted his ass so that he was sitting on my face. He put his hands on the metal bed-posts for leverage and began humping my face, hard but slow, as if he wanted to draw the pain out.

I suppressed a gag, which I was really proud of, and moaned through the gags that I could feel coming from my throat to cover them up. "Yes, yyyeess," he moaned. "Take my dick on, you needy whore. Good boy," he praised. "Make your daddy happy and use that tongue- oh fuck! yes. That's it..."

He humped faster, moaning and cursing, talking dirty for the camera's sake. As he reached his climax, he pulled out of my mouth, wanking himself to milk out the cum that he sprayed over my face, into my open mouth and near my eyes. Thank God it didn't go into my eyes. That stings like a bitch. "You like that, huh? You like it when I cum over your face? You like being daddy's whore?"

"Fuck yeah," I replied.

"You want me to take care of your little problem, here?" he said, looking hungrily at my dick.

I bucked at the air, causing the chains to rattle. "Please," I begged. "Please, make me cum! I've been a good boy, make me cum." I winced inwardly at my own words.

"Gladly," he replied, grinning.

He took my cock in both hands and rubbed the leaking cum up and down my shaft. "Uh, oh God," I groaned, lifting my hips from the bed to try and create more friction. He pumped slowly at first, twisting my dick and playing with my tight, swollen balls, kneading them with his fingers. I screamed and groaned as he poked the slit in the top of my penis, pushing his finger in slightly, before returning to pumping me fast. He clearly wanted to get the job done quickly.

"Ooh, God, I'm cumming!" I screamed and whimpered as my balls tightened and semen was released from my dick. I kept my eyes wide open, knowing that the camera would want to see my famous blue eyes. I came all over my stomach and semen was now both all over my face and my torso

I moaned and panted until, finally, a voice yelled "CUT!" and the lights came on all around, revealing flustered men and women busy-ing themselves with the cameras and the props. The men all had boners tented in their trousers and many were palming themselves through the fabric.

Sam left the set quickly to go to the changing rooms, probably to wank off the new boner he now had. "Good job Creighton!" a voice called from the crew. Of course I didn't give the porn industry my real name. The director walked up to me, a beam on his face. I was still chained to the bed and I managed to blush despite the show I had just given. "That was really great, Ryder. I'm gonna give you the rest of the week off."

I smiled at that. I hated my job more than anything in the world, even though I was apparently good at it. I was only doing it so that I could pay for my apartment that me and my best friend Jace shared. He didn't know about my job. He assumed that I could pay because of my rich family. Of course, they kicked me out because I'm gay, but they didn't leave me any money. I didn't tell Jace that I was just as broke as him because I was afraid that if I couldn't pay, he'd have no use for me and go live with someone else. There was no way in hell I'd be able to live alone. I wouldn't give him a reason to abandon me.

So I ended up entering the porn industry. They took me in immediately, loving my blush and my innocence. My job earned me enough money to pay for the apartment and pay for Jace's college fees, because he was the one with the future, not me. He was grateful, but not as grateful as he would be if he knew what I was doing. Our maybe he wouldn't be grateful at all, and he'd be disgusted. He knew I was gay, but porn was a step too far. His gratitude would have to be enough for now.

"I'm going to talk to your manager in a bit," the director continued as a women came on stage to unlock my cuffs and gave me a dressing gown. I immediately wrapped the red gown around me and rubbed my sore wrists and ankles. "I want you on the next level in this industry. You won't be like the super famous stars, but you'll be close. I want you to work with them."

Crap, I didn't want to work with anyone famous. Hell, I didn't know anyone famous and I couldn't have Jace or my family finding out. I really couldn't. Working with someone famous would put me closer to the spotlight.

"R-really?" I stammered. "I don't think I could-"

"Think nothing of it Ryder, you'll be amazing," he promised. "Anyway, it's a done deal. I showed another manager a bit of your work and this new one will definitely seal the deal. I'll have your agent send you the details." He patted me on the shoulder, looking proud. "Great job, Creighton."

I tried to look happy, and that fake expression completely dropped off my face as I entered the changing room, replaced with a glum, stormy one. None of the men said anything as I made my way through the lockers. I was one of the youngest there, at eighteen years old. I joined when I was seventeen, but I looked old enough. The first time I came off a set, tears were in my eyes and the younger men jeered at me, the older men hit on me, and I cried when I walked back to my apartment.

Now, not one of the twenty men in the changing room said anything to me, I guess because of the respectable reputation I had built for myself and the angry expression on my face.

Given I looked angry, I was actually quite relieved to have the week off. The past six months since I joined the industry consisted of roughly four days a week of working from eight in the morning till ten at night. I'd have a packed schedule with constant sex throughout the day with five minute breaks between scenes to get my erection back up and have my hair and make-up done. I'd have two half hour breaks, one in the morning and one in the evening, and an hour-long lunch break.

Work didn't stop at four days a week though. The other three days I spent working out to keep my body in shape. The agents and directors were very picky about weight and looks so I could lose my job in just a couple of weeks if I let my fitness slip.

I surprised myself by sticking with the job, even though it provided good money. It was extremely tiring, leaving me with an extremely sore dick and painful butt-hole and the need to shower five times to scrape away the stench of sex that always seemed to linger around me. My work had also put me off dating, not just because nobody wants a porn star, but because I simply wasn't interested. Not even in the hot ones. I almost thought that I want gay anymore and that my parents had won, but boobs weren't interesting either.

My slight disinterest in sex was also a problem as I needed to have a boner pretty much all day. I made up for this by watching other guys doing scenes during my breaks, which was useful because the directors and my agents always thought I was learning and paying attention.

I changed into a pair of dark jeans, a black t-shirt and trainers before I began the journey home through the nine-o'clock darkness. I walked through the streets of New York with my hands stuffed into the pouch of my hoodie, counting and re-counting the cash in my pocket. On average, I earned about $600 for every scene, but recently I've been paid more for the longer scenes and ones for films. Now, I had a nifty $950 in my pocket. I guess the money sort of cheered me up.

I ended each working day with tears in my eyes, and this day was no different. I sniffed and fought back the stinging behind my eyes as I made my way up the stairs to my apartment. I entered my three-room home to find Jace asleep on the couch, boxes of Tai food scattered over the furniture and the floor. Apart from the mess he had created, the rest of our living space was extremely neat. Jace was always willing to spring-clean. Every. Fucking. Day. He should be doing his homework or essays or something.

Jace was studying academic music at college and he took piano lessons. He also had many hobbies involving different types of fighting and combat. I was so proud of him.

I picked up the rubbish and chucked it in the bin before returning to Jace to rearrange his feet and head gently so that he wouldn't wake up with neck-cramps. He had college tomorrow, after all. He was the one with the future. Not me.

I disappeared into my room and undressed completely, before grabbing my towel and getting into the shower in the bathroom Jace and I shared. I had many different soaps and hygiene products that smell nice. Jace said that it was because I was gay, but I knew better. Disgusted and hating myself more than the day before, I attempted to scrape away my shame, and failed, only making my usually pale skin red and blotchy.

I fell asleep with the memories and ghosts of hundreds of nameless people touching me all at once, but I wouldn't stop. I was doing this for Jace. Not me.

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><p><strong>Thoughts? Should I continue? Please please leave constructive criticism, what you likeddidn't like, but not too many flames!**

_AllNightmareLong666_


	2. City of Magnus Bane

**Oh my gosh! Thank you so much for the reviews! Your comments make me so happy!**

**I don't own. Sadly.**

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><p>"Alec, dude," Jace began through a mouthful of toast, "why are you so boring? You always work out- alone, I might add- and do... whatever it is you do for a living. Oh wait, you don't need to work, ever, because you're a Lightwood-"<p>

"Jace," I cut him off, scowling at him as I tied the laces on my trainers, sitting by the front door to our apartment. I was getting ready for a run, as I do every morning, only this time I wouldn't go to the studio, I'd be going to the gym or something. I had the rest of the week off- which I haven't had in a while- and I didn't quite know what to do with myself. All this free time... What did I even do before I became a porn star?

"What I'm saying is," Jace continued, "you should meet some new people. There must be some gay guys as your gym."

"I've told you before Jace, just because I'm gay it doesn't mean that my entire life is about having sex with men." Oh, the irony. "If I met someone, I've met someone. If I haven't, I'm not going to search."

"I still find it hard to believe that you haven't been on a date, ever, and you spend lots of time in the gym. Guys AND girls would want you, especially in that sports gear..."

"You going gay for me Herondale?" I teased with a smirk.

"I don't have to be gay to be observant," he dismissed, turning his attention back to the fifth slice of toast he was munching on as he leaned against the work-surface by the toaster.

"Right," I said, standing up, a rucksack filled with gym-gear slung over my shoulder. "I'm off. I'll be back around six...I'll text you when. Don't be late for school," I reminded him.

"Yes mom," he called back, still focused on the toaster.

I left after a quick backwards glance and a sad smile before leaving the small apartment. I set off at a steady job down the stairs and headed for the local gym; local as in three miles away. I ran all the way there, keeping my head down when passing people as if I was paranoid that they might recognise me from my... work. Of course, no one had recognised me so far, but I hadn't done that many high-profile movies. That was about to change. I tried not to think about it too much.

After a morning of weights, bazaar looking fitness machines and politely declining every "interested" person with an 'I've got a boyfriend' or something of the sort, I then showered and changed into more- or less, depending on how you look at it- acceptable clothes for being in public: loose black jeans, black sweater with home-made holes for my thumbs and a baseball-cap so I'd both fit in and be unrecognisable.

With the copious amount of spare-time on my hands, I decided to visit a place that reminded me of the happiest moments in my childhood: a book-store. I actually had a pretty good childhood. I only went and ruined it before it was over. This particular book-store was one I hadn't been to before, but it looked fancy from the outside so I wanted to take a look. The old, female shop attendant gave me a warm smile as I entered the quaint shop. "Anything I can help you with dear?"

"Um, could you point me in the direction of the fantasy section please?" I asked politely, taking off my cap. No, I didn't think this lady watched gay porn. The store was also empty of people, as far as I could tell. It seemed to stretch far back in a maze of bookshelves.

To my delight, the old-fashioned store had a very large fantasy and sci-fi section, though that was mainly because the store had every edition of the Lord of the Rings trilogy available. Apart from that, it did have a wide selection of other things, like Steven King and Neil Gaiman and a few classics. Despite there being a vast range of other books, I immediately wondered over to the "Game of Thrones" section, which was a larger section than one might have thought.

I had already read all of the "Song of Ice and Fire" books, so I was just admiring the new-looking hard-back editions which were a big contrast to my tatty, well-used paper-backs. A sudden voice close behind me made me jump, dropping the heavy book on the floor with a 'thump'. "'You know nothin', Jon Snow,'" said the deep, mocking voice of someone attempting a Scottish accent. I quickly picked up the book as the stranger gave a light-hearted laugh and turned round, a scowl prepared on my face. My scowl quickly faded when I came face to face with possibly the most exotic-looking man I'd ever seen, which is saying something because I had seen plenty of attractive men up close. Way too close.

The man was clearly gay, as shown by his tight, black pants and matching ensemble of cleverly put-together clothes. He was tall, a little taller than me. His eyes had a gorgeous asian slant to them, out-lined with a thin stroke of black eyeliner and a natural shadow that complemented his flawless caramel-coloured skin. His hair dark, long and natural, pulled back in a small ponytail, a few strands falling forward in a way that reminded Alec of anime heros.

"Yeah," the stranger began with a grin, "I've only watched the TV show. Just the look of those massive million-page books makes me yawn."

"Well I like the books," I mumbled, turning away from this slightly overpowering man to go and pretend to look at the 'Lord of the Rings' books.

"Ah, those I've read," he interjected, taking a large step over to where I now was. He leaned against the book-shelf with his knees bent so that he was looking up at me.

"Aren't they just as long?"

"Yes, but they have Legolas and I would gladly wade through a billion words of long-windedness to read about Legolas," he said, mockingly swooning with a hand over his heart. When he saw my grumpy expression, he said "What! Legolas is beautiful and Orlando Bloom without a blonde wig just looks wrong-"

"Look, um..." Wow. This guy sure had a unique way of hitting on people, if that was really what it was.

"Magnus," he said brightly, flashing his bright white teeth.

"I-I'm just... I... I don't..."

"You want to be left alone?" he finished for me, his smile faltering slightly.

"No! It's just that..." Oh God, why did I say no? "I'm not-"

"Gay? Aww, that's too bad. I was so sure-"

"I was going to say," I interrupted his interruption loudly, "that I..." Had a boyfriend? That's what I usually say in these situations. "I'm not looking for anyone, right now."

"That's fine," Magnus shrugged. "I understand." He took another step towards me so that his body was so close to mine, sending my pulse fluttering and causing me to gulp. He looked down on me with a predatory smirk, buying his lower-lip seductively, and raised a slender hand to trail down my clothed chest and my side before reaching down behind me, towards my ass-

"There it is," he exclaimed, suddenly snatching a book from the shelf and spinning round so that he was a comfortable two meters away from me. "I have been looking for this book forever..." Magnus was holding a copy of "the Return of the King", a sly glint in his eye as he looked up at me.

I blushed and gulped again. "I th-thought you had already read those..."

"Yes, as an E-book, but that was only because they had this edition for just the first two books, and I wanted them to match," he said, inspecting the book with a deep concentration. After a few moments of me staring at a guy who was staring at a book, he said "right, I'm buying this. You wanna book?"

"Uh..." came out my mouth because it wad the most intelligent thing I could think of.

He blinked and smiled. "Do you want me to buy a book for you?" When I didn't say anything and looked at him questioningly, he explained himself. "Usually, a guy who likes the look of another guy would buy said guy a drink, but there are no drinks. This is a book store."

"I told you, I'm not looking for anyone," I said in a small voice.

"Well, I'm not just 'anyone'. I was going to buy you a book. 'Anyone' wouldn't buy you a book, they'd buy you a drink," he pointed out, "which in my opinion should be the more common social etiquette."

That made me smile. "I do agree, but-"

"Yeah, yeah, you're not looking for 'anyone'. Neither am I. We could, ya know... just chat? I know a coffee place that does the best muffins ever..." he said in a sing-song voice.

Which part of 'I'm not looking for anyone'- or, in short, go away- didn't this guy understand? Even though he was attractive- very, extremely, inhumanly attractive- I just didn't want to begin going down there. Magnus, or any sane man, wouldn't want to go out with a porn star, and I didn't want him to find out even though he was a complete stranger. I didn't want anyone to know, but that was unavoidable.

"You don't even know my name," I protested.

"Then tell me- no, actually, don't. I want to guess."

I smirked a little. "Well, in that case, my name is-"

"LA LA LA LA," he yelled, sticking his fingers in his ears.

I cringed at the shrill noise interrupting the once quiet book-store. "Magnus!" I stage-whispered. "Shut up!" Although I sounded angry, there was a little grin playing on my lips that I tried to conceal by pursing my lips.

"IT'S FINE THE STORE'S EMPTY LA LA."

I scowled fondly at him. "Stop being childish," I scolded.

"THEN LET ME BUT YOU COFFEE, LA LA, AND LET ME GUESS YOUR NAME LA LA."

"Fine," I sighed, rolling my eyes, and with that, silence. And Magnus grinning triumphantly.

In the end, he did buy me a book; Foundation by Isaac Asimov. The shop attendant gave us both weird looks as we left the shop, exchanging amused glances.

When he bought us both coffee, he turned to me and said "And now I'm buying you a drink as well as that book. You should be blown away."

"I am," I said flatly.

"I bet I knocked your socks off."

"And now I can't get them back on."

"And now you can't even hear yourself think over the sound of how incredibly awesome I am."

"I wouldn't go that far." We both giggled like school-children at our childishness, before taking a seat in the leather armchairs at the back of the shop. This made me relax a little more because no one that could possibly recognise me would see me in the shop window. God, I was paranoid.

"Jason?" Magnus asked, licking the cream off his frappaccino like a cat. I had plain, black coffee which I continuously stirred with a table-spoon.

"Nope."

He smoothed back his ponytail as he frowned in thought. "John?" I shook my head, smiling. "Jack? Jake? Joe? Joseph? Blue-eyes?"

"No, no, no and no. And no."

"Would you tell me if I got it right?"

"Yes."

"Could you tell me your last name?"

I paused, still stirring my coffee. "That might give it away..."

His eyes widened. "Are you supposed to be famous or something?"

"God no! My parents run a business. They are the famous ones. All they gave me is a last name that I avoid telling people," I added, looking down at the coffee table.

"A famous company... Lightwood," he said suddenly. "Lightwood? Is it Lightwood? Did I get it right?" I sighed and nodded as I sank into the back of the armchair, willing it to swallow me up. "I knew I recognised you from somewhere... You look a bit like your parents, but cuter. And a lot hotter," he said with a wink. "Now, if only I could remember the name of the eldest son of the world-famous weapons manufacturer... William? Alistair?"

"Kind of closer on that last one."

"Alistair, Al... Alex?"

"Yup- well, Alec, actually, but that's close enough."

An enormous grin lit up his face. "Alec, as in Alexander?" I nodded. "Well then, Alexander Lightwood," he said triumphantly, letting my name roll off his tongue in a seductive manner, "it is a pleasure to meet you."

Abruptly, his phone rang. Magnus looked like he thought about leaving it, but rolled his eyes and said "I have to get this." I couldn't hear the voice on the other side clearly, but as soon as Magnus heard the voice, his expression fell and turned glum. "What?" he demanded sourly. After a few moments of dialogue from the other line, he sighed. "Fine. I'll be there in fifteen."

"You gotta go?" I asked, surprised at how disappointed I felt.

Looking at me apologetically, he said "As much as I'll regret it, I have to. Work beckons. It's quite an emergency." He stood up, taking his book with him. "I'd like to talk again sometime," he declared with a grin. "I very much enjoy your company. Call me," he said playfully. And then he was gone, disappearing as quickly as he had arrived, leaving me spluttering and telling him that I didn't have his number.

I then looked down to the book he left me. Only then did I notice a piece of paper tucked into it that wasn't the receit. It was a pink post-it note, with some writing scrawled in pen on it. The message read: "Magnus Bane 07645 213376 call me ;)"

I grinned, feeling a lot happier and a lot lighter than I had in a while.

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><p><strong>What did you think of their first meeting? Please let me know. Until next time...<strong>

AllNightmareLong666


	3. City of Dates

**Sorry this took a long time. Thank you so much for your reviews! Enjoy!**

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><p>"Are you OK, Alec?" Jace queeried as he soughted through his books for college, sitting at the kitchen table. "Could you stop pacing? It's driving me insane."<p>

"Oh, uh, yeah," I answered, still staring at my phone as I sat down on the couch, my thumb hovering over the button that would call Magnus. _Should I? Shouldn't I? I probably should... nope, definitely not. No way. But..._

"What are you doing with that phone of yours? You never contact real people like a normal person," Jace commented off-handedly. "What's changed?" There was a pause before Jace's head snapped up and his eyes widened in relation. "Oh no you didn't... You took my advice!"

"What advice?" I asked, doing my best _what-the-fuck-are-you-crazy?_ impression.

"You met a guy," he stated cheerfully, standing up from the kitchen table and jumping over to the couch that was barely two meters away. "I can't really talk guys with you, 'cause I'm a dude, but if he's girly, we can pretend-"

"Jace, what could possibly make you think I met someone?" I demanded, holding my phone to my chest to hide the screen from any prying eyes.

"This is uncharted territory. You never mope around with your phone, it's always on your own, so there must be a second person involved," he deduced, sounding proud of himself. "So? What's he like?"

I let out a deep sigh. "There is no one, Jace."

"Fine, fine, fine, don't tell me," he said, defensively putting his hands in the air as he trudged back to his stacks of homework.

There were a few moments of silence and me pondering whether to call or not, before I heard a voice right next to my ear say "Who's Magnus?"

I almost jumped out of my skin, shocked by the proximity of Jace's voice next to my ear. I spun around, scowling at my flatmate angrily. "Jace! What the fuck?!"

He tutted, walking away with a smug smirk on his face. "Told you there was someone." I rolled my eyes and turned back to my phone. "So, who is he?"

"A guy I met at the book-store," I mumbled, remembering his bright voice and his teasing-

"Aww, isn't that nice. You can be geeks together!"

"I don't think he's geeky," I said thoughtfully. "He's chatty, but not geeky... not really."

"Is he cute? Ya know, as a gay guy?"

"Yes, definitely." Well, cute was an understatement. How about beautiful, majestic, hot as Hell... "He bought me a book, so I kind of have to call him."

"I'd help you, man, but my expertise in love is only in the field of wooing women. If he's on the feminine side-"

"Ok ok ok, Jace. I get the picture. Now go away so I can call him," I ordered.

"Sure you're gonna call him?"

_Definitely. Maybe. I don't know..._ "Fuck off!"

"Fine, I'm going," he sighed, giving up. I knew he had good intentions at heart, but I needed silence so that I could draw a mental chart of the pros and cons of calling this stranger who wouldn't like me if he knew my job. Yeah, it's probably best I don't... "Shit!" I exclaimed. In my wallowing state I managed to accidentally press the 'call' button. I was about to hang up, but Magnus beat me to it.

"Hello?" the voice that I recognised called through the phone cheerfully. "Magnus Bane here."

I spent a few moments fumbling with my phone, before quickly spluttering an answer. "I-it's Alec here. From the book-store." _Oh crap oh crap, it was way too early, wasn't it? I should have waited till tomorrow, or next year, or-_

"Ah, yes," the voice replied in recognition. "Blue-Eyes! The cute one who likes reading Game of Thrones."

"Yeah, that's me," I confirmed lamely. "I called 'cause I have you're number."

"You do indeed," he said, a smirk in his voice.

After a somewhat awkward pause, I began to talk. "I-I was wondering, could we meet again sometime? Our 'meeting' thing in the café was cut a little short..."

"Oh yes, sorry about that, darling." I blushed at the nick-name. "I did enjoy our "'meeting' thing". Would you like to have another "'meeting' thing?'" he asked, a sly smile seeping into the tone of his voice.

I gulped, remembering the stranger's amber eyes, playful at first glance, but with a predatory undertone. "Y-yeah, I would."

"Great!" he exclaimed. "How does tomorrow at six suit you?"

"'Kay, it's a date," I replied quickly, before realising what I just said. "Um, not a date, as in a date-date, a date as in a time thing, not that it isn't a date, if you didn't want it to be-"

My rambling was cut off by his bright laugh and a dismissive "you're adorable," and I flushed red, thanking God Magnus couldn't see me. "So I'll see you at six, in the same place as yesterday?"

"Yes, see you then," I managed in a steady voice.

"Yay! See you tomorrow Blue-Eyes."

"Bye." And then we both hung up. I let out the breath I had been holding in and I could feel my rapid pulse gradually calming down and finally reaching its normal speed. God, I had been so nervous and I had no idea why. I had been with so many hot men. I was far from being a virgin. I was used to being naked in front of an audience. Why was I so nervous for just one guy? Albeit, a very hot guy who was far more attractive, in my opinion, than all the porn stars I had been with. Combined.

I was now nervous for tomorrow instead of the phone-call; what should I wear? How will I tell him I just want to be friends? What would he think of porn stars? All sorts of questions floated around in my mind as I got ready for bed and crawled under my duvet.

Unable to sleep because of my expectations for tomorrow, I decided to pass the time by checking emails. I succeeded in taking my mind off the beautiful stranger I barely knew and turned my attention to my "work". I had received an email specifying all the details for my next scene, which was with a famous dude (so famous I'd never heard of him) who went by the alias of the "High-Warlock of Brooklyn" which was a very eccentric name compared to my "Ryder Creighton" which was apparently sexy. Not that I particularly cared. At least no one would be able to link that name with my true identity.

My scene with the "High-Warlock of Brooklyn" was going to be next Monday at nine o'clock in the morning. Ugh. I was really not looking forward to having an arrogant porn super-star with an ego bigger than his dick crawling all over me. Not that that didn't usually happen. It did, only the guys I'd been with were more about money than they were about being famous.

Next Monday was going to suck, I decided, but in the meantime, I had Magnus to think about. For the first time in months, I dreamed about something other than rough, uncaring hands smothering me. Golden-green, vibrant eyes filled my mind instead, eyes with history and mystery behind them. A mystery that I would gladly solve. At least it would take my mind off reality for a while.

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><p>"So what's your favourite colour?" It was six o'clock and we were in the same café as the day before. It felt almost as if we had never left.<p>

"Um... black."

"Black is not a colour."

"Neither is rainbow," I pointed out. "Rainbow is a colour scheme."

"And black is a shade. It's also really depressing, but sexy, I suppose, if you use it in the right way," Magnus said, looking me up and down suggestively. I blushed a little, just from one look he gave me. God, what was wrong with me? Why was this guy affecting me in this way? Until a day ago, I had absolutely no interest in dating- or men- whatsoever.

I looked down at my clothes subconsciously. I was wearing a black, long-sleeved shirt with a pair of black jeans and some ankle boots. I had made much more of an effort than I did yesterday, probably because of my date- or whatever it was- with Magnus. "Don't worry dear, you look fine," he reassured me cheekily. "Just... lose the shirt, and the jeans, and whatever type of panties you have on under there."

Great. Now I was pretty sure I was the colour of a tomato. I looked away from him, probably appearing to be a little embarrassed which made him chuckle. "What I'm wearing is fine," I protested.

"I'm not saying it isn't, but a young man like yourself could always learn a few fashion tips from someone older, like me."

"Older? How much older?"

"Well, you are what, twenty? Twenty-one?"

"Eighteen," I said flatly.

I saw a little surprise in his eyes. "Eighteen? Are you still in college?"

"No, I never went to college," I said somewhat sadly. "Didn't have enough money."

"Your parents didn't pay for it? They're like, billionaires!"

I paused, considering lying to him, but what would I say? "My parents kicked me out when I was seventeen. Because I'm gay."

His eyes widened and a look of shock appeared on his face, making me regret telling him almost instantly. His hand went to his mouth. "I am so sorry," he said carefully.

I shrugged. "I'm over it. I now live with a guy who does have money to pay for our flat, so it's not so bad."

There was a long silence in which we looked at each other, the same sad expression on our faces. "Well," he said after a few moments, "to answer your question, I'm am twenty-six."

He then picked up the conversation again, wisely keeping it away from the 'parents' side of things.

Magnus was picking at a muffin he held in his hands, his fingers decorated with a few rings that glinted when they caught the light. His hair was still in a small ponytail with a few stands loose around his face. His eyelids had some shadow around them and his lashes were lined with a little bit of eyeliner, making his amber eyes stand out even more than they already did. Magnus was striking. Just a little makeup and smart clothes and he was already more than I could dream of.

I sat there, not touching my coffee, staring at the stranger I knew I wouldn't be able to have. If my situation had been different, I would definitely want to go out with this guy, given I barely knew him. He seemed bright and smart on the outside, his personality kind of addictive. I found that the more I heard him speak, the more I wanted to listen.

"Have you started reading that book I bought you? What was it called... _Foundation_?"

"Yup, _Foundation_ by Isaac Asimov. And no, I haven't started it yet. It's a classic, so it's bound to be good." He nodded, nibbling at his half-eaten muffin. "Why were you in that store yesterday? Presumably not to pick up guys..."

He smirked. "No, it wasn't. I'm at that store quite a lot. I have this crime novel addiction that needs a regular feeding..." I let out a small laugh before I could stop myself. "What's funny?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing, nothing," I insisted.

"You find reading crime novels funny?"

"No, it just that you don't... look, like the kind of person who-"

"What do I look like then?" Magnus challenged.

I raised my fingers to my lips and began chewing at my nails as I mumbled "You're hot."

He grinned, flashing his perfect pearly teeth. "So, hot people can't read crime novels?"

"No, no that's not what I meant-"

"Hot people can't read at all?!" He gasped mockingly. "That is a very broad generalisation, Alexander," he tutted.

I sighed in exasperation, but smiled fondly and he beamed innocently back at me. Then, a question I had been eager to ask him popped into my head. "What do you do for a living, anyway?"

His expression fell at that question and he looked away from me. Perhaps I had hit a nerve there? "Oh, um, I... I have a job, but I'm trying to get out of it. I don't particularly like it. I'm good at it, but I'm only doing it for the money. Once I find a different job that pays well, I'll leave my current one." I noticed he didn't directly answer the question, in fact, he dodged the answer completely, but I decided not to push it.

"I'm in a similar sort of situation," I interjected. "I have a job, but I'm looking for a different one."

Eager to change the conversation, he looked at his watch. "Oh my, we've been here for over two hours! How time flies when you're in gorgeous company," he said with an almost fake cheer. He stood up and I rose with him. "Would you like me to give you a lift home? My car is parked just around the corner."

"Sure, thanks." I smiled, though I was sad the date was over. It was only eight-thirty, but maybe I'd invite him in for a bit. Hopefully Jace wouldn't be back from school.

Magnus offered me his arm and I hooked mine through it. We left the café and headed for his car.

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><p><strong>Reviews and criticism are welcome!<strong>

**Until next time...**

_AllNightmareLong666_


	4. City of Ignorance

**I am so sorry for not using sooner! I'll try to update faster in the future. Anyway, thank you for all your kind words! I really appreciate them!**

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><p>"Here it is," I said, gesturing to a small apartment block outside the car window. Magnus was giving me a ride back to my place, his car so obviously expensive that it stood out like a beacon in the mundane neighbourhood that I lived in. It was a sleek, black car, and sly, much like Magnus himself. He parked just outside the apartment-complex and strained his eyes to see, through the dark, the average-looking place I lived in. "You wanna stay for a bit?" I offered. "My roommate is at school now and won't come back for a while yet."<p>

He smiled genuinely back at me. "Yes, I'd love to come in."

We entered the building and begun the climb up the stairs leading to the fifth floor when mine and Jace's apartment was. I fumbled for my keys and eventually unlocked and opened the door, praying to God it would be as tidy as I had left it that morning. When I flicked on the light, I revealed a very small, but tidy, living-space.

"It's not much," I said nervously, putting the keys in the bowl by the door. "It's all I can afford right now."

"It's very tidy, for an apartment that has two teenagers living in it," he commented, looking around the apartment with a sweeping gaze, before making his way over to the fridge. His eyes were scanning through the pictures of Jace and my family (excluding my parents) that were stuck to the metallic fridge door. "These must be your siblings," he said, his fingers dancing lightly over the photos. "They look like you."

"That's Izzy and the little one is Max," I said, making my way over to him. I leaned against the kitchen counter. "The blonde one is Jace." My family looked happy and were smiling in all the photos (except Jace in the one where Izzy had put blue hair-dye in his shampoo). They were so young and painfully ignorant of the way their lives would change.

"As in Jace your flat-mate?"

"Yup." Magnus narrowed his eyes and cocked an eyebrow. "What is it?"

He looked back at me, a playful twinkle in his eyes. "Are you sure you and this Jace don't have a thing goin' on...?" he said slyly, spitting out the name 'Jace' like it was sand in his mouth.

"Ew!" I exclaimed. "No way! He's completely strait!"

"How can you be sure?" he protested. "From what I can see, this is a scarily tidy apartment that belongs to two teenage boys. It's scary because I've only seen an apartment as tidy as this that belongs to teenage girls. But if one of said boys were gay, such as your lovely self, that would explain a little, but tidying a whole apartment hardly seems a job for only one guy-"

"You definitely read too many crime novels," I said, cutting him off mid-deduction.

He only shrugged. "My point still stands."

"No, it doesn't. He is strait. And yes he is kind of a neat freak, but that does not make him gay. And even if he was, we are like brothers!"

"I thought you'd read Game of Thrones," Magnus said. "There's incest in that."

I just blinked and stared at him as if he were crazy- and he just as well may be crazy. "We are just friends," I said as calmly as I could muster. "Why do you care anyway?"

"I just don't want anyone to get jealous when I steal you away," he said suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows and successfully making me blush. He then looked away as he added, "or maybe I do..."

"He wouldn't care," I said dismissively.

At that, Magnus just blinked at me, clearly thinking something over in his head, before he looked back to the photos. "How come there aren't any with you in them?" he asked, stepping closer towards me, his knee grazing my leg discretely.

I shrugged. "I'm normally the one taking the photos. Anyway, I'm not sure anyone would particularly want to have a photo of me..."

"I would." And that was it. From those two words and onwards, I decided that I wanted that man, no matter what the cost. I wanted him. I wanted to be close to him. I wanted to fall for him-

But I couldn't. I couldn't do that to him. I couldn't lie to him and selfishly take what I crave. I couldn't tell him either; he'd just leave me, making me feel worse than I already do because then I'd know that he'd be disgusted, rather than just being pretty sure.

I began to lean into him, but looked away from his amber eyes and stopped myself from going further. It was as if there was something blocking the both of us, preventing us from moving closer together. I knew why I didn't, but I didn't know his reason. Maybe he didn't think of me in that way...

"What about you?" I asked after the painful silence in which both of us were lost in our thoughts. "Do you have any family?"

I regretted that simple question almost as soon as I had said it. Magnus' expression fell even further, his normally bright eyes saddening. "No, I don't."

"What, none at all?" Damn it, why did I ask that?

He looked back up at me, as if pleading for me to stop. "No siblings... My mother killed herself, and my father, I..."

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry I asked," I said quickly, attempting to repair the damage I had done as if I were using a Disney-princess-plaster to hold together a crumbling brick wall.

"No, it's fine-"

"You don't have to talk about it. So you want a drink? We have more coffee, beer... I'll see what we have," I said hurriedly, opening the fridge door, allowing a chill to breeze out of it.

"Alexander," he said sternly.

"What?" I asked, suddenly worried that I had upset him. I stood up strait to look at him. Before I could say anything else, a pair of lips were pressed against mine, effectively silencing the words that were about to leave my mouth. A hand went to the back of my neck, pulling me further into his warm embrace. His lips were soft and careful against my mouth, stiff at first before I relaxed into the kiss. My mind had gone blank, only filled with the heavenly sensation of his touch. The feeling was surprisingly foreign and unexpected, given that I had kissed countless guys-

'No! Oh God, no no, this can't be happening!' My mind panicked as the realisation of what was happening dawned on me. I had agreed with myself that I wouldn't do this to him. I couldn't let him hate me just because I was disgusting. I would have much preferred him to hate me for pushing him away, or for being a douche, or misleading him about my gender, or... something! But I couldn't pull away, as if my body was in a trance that my mind couldn't pull it out of. His lips guided my own open with expert control, his tongue slipping inside just a little, giving me a teasing taste.

And then it was over. Before I had gained enough self-control to move my own body, Magnus was actually the first of us to pull away from the slow, but nerve-wracking kiss. My pulse was still hammering through my body at an unnecessarily high rate and he looked almost as shocked as I felt. After a few long moments of staring at each other in bewilderment, he finally looked away. "I... I'm sorry, I shouldn't have..." He scratched the back of his neck as he paused. "I should probably go-"

"No! Don't go," I said quickly. "It's fine, I'm... fine with it. It's just rather unexpected."

He looked at me with a serious expression, as if thinking something through in his mind. "Are you a virgin?" he suddenly asked, his face still stern.

Caught slightly off guard, I snorted and gave a short, mirthless laugh. "Definitely not." He looked surprised, so I felt the need to explain myself. "I've had sex before," understatement of the year, "but I haven't really done... this," I said.

"This," he repeated, raising an eyebrow, "as in kissing? Or dating."

"Dating," I confirmed, smiling a little. "And you've obviously done 'this' before."

"No, actually," he said casually. "I don't date much either. I do sometimes-"

"No way," I said, gaping at him. "There is no way..." He was just so smooth! And so easy, and so not awkward, awkward like me.

"What? It's not like I'm a virgin or anything," he said with an uncharacteristic defensiveness. He was now leaning against the kitchen counter, propped up on his elbows.

I laughed light-heartedly. "Don't worry, I wasn't thinking that."

A small smirk appeared on his face, then fell off again. His expression suddenly turned somewhat sad, mixed with something else. Regret, perhaps. Longing...

"Is there anything wrong, Magnus?" I asked carefully.

He hesitated, as if planning to say one thing, but quickly changing his mind. "No, nothing's wrong." He attempted another smile. "I just wish I could stay."

"You can," I reassured him, before quickly adding, "if you want to, of course."

He paused, then shook his head. "No, I need to go. Got work on Monday, and there are a few preparations I need to make on Sunday, which is tomorrow, Goddamnit," he said, more to himself than to me. "We should arrange another date," he chirped, snapping out of his thoughtful daze. "How's Monday lunchtime? Half twelve?"

"Hmm, I won't be here at that time," I said, my stomach dropping as I remembered that Monday at nine was when I had my scene with whoever the "High Warlock of Brooklyn" was. "I can meet you somewhere, how about your place?"

"Not really, I live in Brooklyn." Funny coincidence. "How about we meet at the bookshop outside central? The one we first met in?"

I grinned. "Yeah, that would be great. I'll look forward to then."

He smiled too, a genuine smile. "Awesome, I'll see you soon, Blue-Eyes." He made his way back to the door of my apartment and I followed. I opened the door, and he stepped outside before turning back to me. "Monday, at twelve thirty?" I nodded in confirmation. His signature smirk appeared on his lips. "See you then."

Before I could reply, he reached a hand to the back of my neck and gently pressed a kiss to my cheek. When he pulled back, I was blushing my signature blush and smiling shyly back at him. I watched him leave with an aching longing in my gut. I knew I couldn't have him, but what was the harm in enjoying it for a little while? I'll just have to make up an excuse sooner or later, and hope that he hasn't become as attached to me as I have to him.

I sighed and went back inside my apartment. I was hoping to enjoy my last day of freedom before Monday with Magnus, but I'd only see him after the scene. At least I'd have something to keep my mind on to get me through the experience. Normally, the only thing I have to look forward to is money and a long, cold shower. This time, as well as money, I'd have someone who I actually could have a chance to be with, if I were in a different situation of course.

Anyway, he managed to make me feel happy, and for that I will always be grateful.

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><p><strong>Always? Really ALWAYS Alec? Even if he's a porn star too?<strong>

**Hope you guys enjoyed it! You'll find out what happens on Monday next time...**

**Drop a review for me if you have time. A chapter-of-this-story for your thoughts!**

_AllNightmareLong666_


	5. City of Truths

**Hey guys, sorry it's late, but this chapter (and one scene in particular) was really difficult to write. I hope I've gotten it right...**

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><p>Before I knew it, Monday had arrived, bright and early. I had spent all of Sunday sweating away my woes in the gym and preventing Jace from procrastinating instead of doing his homework. He had met a girl called Carrie (or was it Clair? Clary?) and just would not stop talking about her, how she was an amazing artist and how she was so brave to have a dick for a father, or something like that. She had also slapped Jace for flirting with her (which I mentally applauded) and that only seemed to encourage Jace in his devious endeavour to seduce her into being his girlfriend.<p>

I had woken up at six to go for a quick run, then returned to the apartment to shower and prepare myself for the day ahead. I couldn't wait to get the scene over and done with, because then I would see Magnus again. I was now thinking about getting a different job and quitting the porn industry more often since I met Magnus, as now there was someone I felt I wanted to be with. A reason for why I didn't have to suffer anymore. Because it would hurt him if I did.

As I approached the building where I did most of my scenes (including the one I was about to do) it was about ha past eight. I looked up at the tall, ugly building with mild interest. I had seen it so many times, and then was the first time it had looked so DISGUSTING. It looked the same as it has always done, but something inside me was determined to hate every little bit about that building, about my job, about my life. But I didn't let myself look at that building for too long, or I'd end up hating it so much that I would forget why I was doing this in the first place, which was for Jace, to pay for his college fees. At least, that's what I originally did it for.

The set was buzzing with people, all with their tasks to do to complete the setting for my scene with "the High Warlock of Brooklyn". People were fiddling with the brightness and colour of the lights and adding the finishing touches to the bed in the middle of the room. The blanket covering the thick duvet was a dark claret colour, with patterns and swirls of other reds mixed into it. The lights were dim and shone a pale red hue on the scene that was much akin to evening sunlight. It was, if I dare say so, romantic.

Seeing me enter the set, one of the designers bounced up to me excitedly and she handed me a small bag with what I presumed was my costume inside. "Here, Mr. Creighton, go put this on, then go to hair 'n' make-up." I obliged without hesitation, already accustomed to the menial rituals of getting prepared for a scene. The clothes she had given me were not at all what I was expecting. Usually I had to wear something tight-fitting and kinky, most commonly made of brightly coloured fake leather and had at least a few sequins or something. However, the clothes that I put on were simple and normal-looking, and covered up most of my skin. There was a pair of dark blue jeans and a button-down white shirt. I knew that once the filming got started I wouldn't be wearing the clothes for long, but I couldn't help but be grateful for the decency of the plain clothes. I did also know that the reason for my unembellished outfit was probably caused by the outrageous complexity of my partner's. After all, the "High Warlock" was the star of this thing. He was going to need some contrast to play off, and who better than plain old me.

Hair and make-up was similarly simple, just a bit of hair-spray and some finishing touches to my complexion. I then made my way back to the set, the familiar fluttering of nerves coiling in my stomach. I then thought of Magnus, which made me smile a bit. At least I had my date with him to look forward to after the scene.

Standing on set were a group of men, all dressed rather plainly apart from one who was facing away from me, his dark hair gelled in spikes and sprinkled with silver glitter. He was wearing incredibly tight leather pants and a loose tank-top that revealed a strip of caramel skin. He, I assumed, was the High-Warlock of Brooklyn. The director, who I recognised, realised I was here and waved me over joyously. "Ah, yes, you're here!" he exclaimed. "Mr. Brooklyn, I'd like you to meet Ryder Creighton..."

And then he turned around.

I stared, gobsmacked, at the person I knew all to well. My stomach had dropped and my eyes were watering from being wide open. I could barely bring myself to think his name. My mind could barely recognise what was happening, while my body seemed to realise instantly. I was frozen where I stood, unable to piece together enough information to know how I felt. He looked just as horrified as I was, his eyes wide with panic. He was wearing more make-up than I was used to, his amber-green eyes lined with thick lines of black and gold. His ears were rimmed with many piercings, ring and studs.

"Alec?" he whispered in disbelief, a ringed hand over his mouth. We spent a few moments taking in the information, his hand still over his mouth. "My God, I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I am so, so sorry..."

I didn't say anything. I couldn't. I just stood there, unmoving, trying to slow down my breathing and my thumping pulse. The director was long gone, instructing the camera men on the other side of the room.

He took a step towards me. "Alec?" I blinked. "I'm sorry-"

"You've already said that," I snapped suddenly as I looked away, running both hands through my hair in exasperation. I took a deep breath that shook my lungs and I let it out in a fast huff. I bowed my head, scrunching my eyes shut and pinching the bridge of my nose between my thumb and index finger. I just wanted him to go away- hell, I wanted all of it to go away. Why isn't there anything in my life that doesn't have a fundamental flaw? Why can't something be perfect for a change?

I felt a light hand on my shoulder and I tensed under it. I turned my head to see Magnus, his expression pained and sorrowful. The tears shining in his eyes (but not falling) only infuriated me more. What right did he have to be upset? Why was he the victim while I had never been more humiliated in my life?

And why did I have to have sex with him in front of all these people? In front of a camera? Why, when he was the only person I had considered having sex with in a long time, did I hate the idea of doing the scene with him? Was it because he had lied to me? Even though my actions matched his exactly, was a still angry because he had lied?

Or did I resent him purely because he was a porn star, and a famous one at that.

"I'm sorry too," I replied weakly as I turned to face him. His hand fell to his side and he bowed his head, not meeting my gaze. Tears stung behind my eyes. "I'm so sorry."

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><p>I refused to look at Magnus as the director talked through the scene, but out of my periphery, I could see him constantly glancing up at me worriedly. It didn't take long for the director to explain the scene; me, pretend to be a blushing virgin, completely overcome by the sexual awe of the High Warlock of Brooklyn, and he had to be the powerful, but seductive and honourable gentleman who had to "show me the ropes", so to speak. It was pretty simple.<p>

At last, the dreaded word that I had been anticipating for the past hour was yelled from the other side of the set. "And... Action!"

For the first few seconds were empty, neither of us made a move towards each other. Clearly, neither of us wanted this. But we had to.

Magnus made the first movement, stepping forward to touch my cheek with an embellished hand. I did my best not to wince and move away, instead I looked up at him nervously, seeing his eyes analysing my movements and reactions, as if to figure out what was OK or not, as if he could be so gentle that our relationship could be salvaged from the tangled mess it was currently in. Surely, he knew that "we" wasn't possible anymore. I understood that perfectly. We were never going to see each other again after this, for as long as I could help it. I knew that I wouldn't be able to take seeing his face again.

His face now, differing from the more natural look that I had become accustomed to, was undeniably beautiful, even under the make-up. His eyes were their usual golden-green shade which was brought out with the Arabian-style eyeliner that outlined his lashes.

He grew closer and closer, his head tilted so that he could access my lips. God, I really did not want to do this. I didn't want to kiss him, I didn't want to touch him, and most of all, I didn't want him to touch me. But we had to, and there was nothing I could do to stop it, so I tilted my head, reluctantly allowing his lips to touch mine. As they did, tingles were sent through my nervous-system, screaming at me to stop, to stop kissing him in front of all these people.

Instead of pulling away, which was what my body wanted me to do, I deepened the kiss, losing myself in the haze and heady feeling of his lips against mine. My eyes were squeezed shut, blocking out the outside world so that we could stay in our little world of just us. Of course, this little world was flawed in that in reality, we wouldn't be having sex now. We would have waited until it felt right, rather than forcing it, which was exactly what we were doing.

He leaned into me, causing me to stumble back against the bed. The soft caresses with his lips were nervous and tender, just like the hand against my cheek that was now sliding up the back of my neck and into my hair. He sighed, more for the cameras, I suspected, and pushed me down gently so that he was standing above me, moving his slow kisses from my lips and down my neck. His hands stroked down my clothed chest and undid the first few buttons down to my stomach and pulled the shirt apart, exposing my pale skin. He hesitated, as if he were considering stopping, but then realised that he couldn't. The rest of the buttons were then undone and I looked away as he slid the shirt from my shoulders. Warm hands stroked down my arms and then returned to my chest, trailing down my torso and reaching my abdominal muscles.

"It's OK, just relax," he soothed as he used one hand to turn my chin to face him; our eyes met, and his were saying something different to the words that were mindlessly falling from his lips. 'I'm sorry,' they said, and I knew he was sorry, because I was sorry as well. However, both of us knew that neither of us could be forgiven.

He looked me in the eye as his hand travelled down the front of my body and reached the top of my jeans. My breath hitched in my throat as the hand groped and caressed my crotch slowly and I moaned, tossing my head back for the camera. He moved so that he now stood between my spread legs, bent over me so that his lips were softly grazing my neck and his hand continued to massage and grope my groin. His other hand decided to play with one of my hard nipples, rolling it between his finger-tips, causing me to give an involuntary groan. More mindless words were falling from his lips, but I ignored them, knowing that they were for the camera's sake.

Loosening the front of my jeans, he slid one hand down the front of my underwear, the thin material the only thing between my erection and his slender fingers. I moaned, squeezing my eyes shut and turning my head away in an attempt to hide my blushing face. He pulled my jeans down to my ankles before he then removed his own tight-fitting clothes. I stared in amazement at the sight of his perfect torso, the muscles slim but obvious, the skin a pure caramel colour, flawless and soft-looking. He was just so effortlessly beautiful, I thought, but a pang of longing and regret to ruin the moment.

He bent down over me so that his lips were by my ear, and he whispered ever so quietly, so that the microphones wouldn't be able to hear. "I'm sorry," he said tightly. "Please forgive me, I'm so, so sorry..."

Magnus' P.O.V.

Every move I made was painful and forced. Every breath I took was controlled and restricted. Every thought in my head was whirling round and round inside my mind, preventing me from creating one coherent train of thought. I was just so... sorry. I don't think I had ever felt so sorry in my entire life. Alec didn't deserve this, he didn't deserve me. He deserved better. So much better.

Lying beneath me was a dream come true- true in the most cruel and twisted kind of way. Nothing about this was right, not the time, place, or anything about the situation was the way I wanted it to be, the way it should have been, for Alec's sake.

His body was more perfect than I had ever imagined, with his defined muscles rippling beneath his flawless, porcelain skin. The bittersweet look of pleasure on his face as I stroked him made me even more reluctant to continue. The ocean-blue colour of his eyes as they flew open was truly breath-taking. Despite what we were doing, he still managed to keep the same look of innocence as the boy I met at the bookstore, blushing and humble. He was so pure and innocent that what I was doing to him sickened me. And to think of all the other people who had touched him in this way, in cruel, sick ways- I felt angry as well as sorry. There was no way he could deserve this, and that I was sure about.

I could feel the cameras shifting behind me as I removed the last of his clothing, leaving him completely bare and exposed. I moved my body to cover his, trying to shield him from view, shielding him from the millions of pairs of eyes that would possibly see this. All those people that would see Alec as nothing more than a sexual object- how could he do this to himself? Assuming everything else he told me was true, he probably did this because he needed the money as his parents didn't leave him any, but any other job would be better than this! This kind of job was only for people like me, people who had no purity left, with no self-worth, and Alec was worth so much more than me.

I was about to remove the rest of my clothes when I made a split decision which I would probably end up regretting, but at the time it seemed like my best option. Abruptly, I stood up straight, turning my back to Alec, refusing to make any more eye-contact with him. "Wait, cut!" I yelled over the set, seeing all the confused faces of the cameramen and the director.

"Brooklyn, what are you doing-" the director began.

"I can't do this," I said, looking away from the crowd. "I-I don't feel well." An assistant immediately came on set and handed me a robe which I snatched from her hands and hurriedly tied around my waist.

I strode out of the room, seeing Alec in my periphery and immediately wishing I had covered him up before I left.

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><p><strong>I feel really bad for them... Is it just me, or is this fanfic a bit more gloomy than expected?<strong>

**Let me know what you think, feel free to PM me about any questions or suggestions.**

_AllNightmareLong666_


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